


The One Where (Somehow) the Team is Oblivious

by Darksknight



Category: Captain America (Movies), Marvel, The Avengers (Marvel Movies)
Genre: F/M, Fluff, Had to do it, I know the avengers are all smarter than this but, M/M, Multiple Pov, Parental Bucky/Wanda, Parental Steve/Wanda, bi steve rogers, implied sex and explicit sexual content, second chapter has sex, steve and bucky are super in love
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-09-26
Updated: 2016-09-30
Packaged: 2018-08-17 09:38:58
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 16,495
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8139337
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Darksknight/pseuds/Darksknight
Summary: Wanda had kissed her brother on his cheek after being separated from him for a short time- she understands a need for closeness after being lonely. But Wanda never slept on top of her brother, so seeing Bucky on top of Steve... is a little odd. (Steve and Bucky act a lot closer than friends usually do. There's a reason for that.)





	1. The Team

The one where (somehow) the team is completely oblivious.

-

 

Bruce is working in the lab, as per usual. He likes the calm atmosphere and the surround sound Tony installed to play peaceful soundtracks from some of Bruce’s favorite movies and composers.

What isn’t per usual is the dark and brooding shadow that passes by his doorway every couple of minutes. What Bruce doesn’t like is the annoying tapping of combat boots coming down the hallway.

Every now and then a head of shaggy brown hair will poke in, see Bruce working, and move on.

No more.

Bruce pushes back from his station and waits. The tap, tap, tap comes faithfully down the hallway. James Barnes stops in the doorway, sticks his head in, and sees Bruce is not working. He steps inside, casually- like he hasn't been making grooves in the hallway with his relentless pacing.

“You know where Stevie is?”

Stevie? Bruce thinks. He’d thought that James called Steve ‘Stevie’ on the team com line to make fun of him, but the way he says it casually now makes him think twice. He shakes his head. “I don’t.”

“Damn.” Bucky leans against the doorway. “Because I was gonna text him but I can’t fucking remember where I left my fucking phone yesterday. I’ll have to ask Stark, damn it.”

Bruce has no idea why James is telling him this. “… Okay?”

“I combed this whole damn tower and I think I must keep missing him or something. Steve, I mean, not Stark- it’s hard to miss Stark. Steve tells me when he’s going out so-“

“Would you like me to text him?” Not that Bruce doesn't want to hear the whole story, but he doesn't really see the point. The end deal is going to be the same, obviously. God, all the work Bruce could have been doing instead of worrying over James this past hour...

James brightens considerably. “You’re not gonna make fun of me?”

“No.” He sighs, rubbing the bridge of his nose. “Is that why you’ve been stalking all over this floor?”

“You were busy.” James defends. “And besides, Steve keeps saying he’s been meaning to see you, so I thought maybe when I wasn’t around he’d come up here and-“

“I’ll text him.” Bruce says. He turns and picks his phone up.

Me: there’s an anxious assassin awaiting pickup in the lab. no issues, he’s just waiting for you here.

God forbid he sends either of them towards the other and they miss each other. He doesn't have to wait even a full minute for Steve's reply.

Steve: thank you!!!

“He’ll be here in a second.” Bruce says.

Bucky nods, trying to regain his badass assassin aura. He fails, spectacularly, as he looks out the door for Steve- like the man will materialize out of thin air. Bruce is reminded briefly of a dog eagerly looking at the door every time there's a noise.

“Were you on mission?” Bruce asks.

“Uh, no.” He keeps looking.

“Oh. Were you out?”

“Been here all day.”

“… Was Steve on mission?”

“No.”

“Oh. It’s just…”

James looks back over at Bruce. “Just what?”

“Well, you seem so eager to see him- has one of you been away?” It would make sense; James gets antsy if he hasn't heard from Steve in a couple of days. It's the same on Steve's end, of course.

“Nah, saw him this morning.” He shrugs. “Just miss ‘im.”

It’s a quarter to seven. They haven't even been apart for twelve hours and Bruce still has to deal with this shit. He puts his hands together and takes a long, long breath in.

Steve comes sprinting down the hall then, all smiles and mused blond hair. Bruce returns to the dog analogy- he's reminded of a dog wagging it's tail so hard it wobbles as it runs. “Buck!” He says, like they haven’t seen each other all year.

Bruce expects a hearty shoulder-grasp and some chatting as they walk out. Instead he’s treated to the sight of a tight, Notebook-rain-scene hug. Steve buries his face in James’ shoulder as James holds onto him tightly, relaxing.

Bruce stares.

“Man, thought I’d never find you. This tower is too damn big.” Bucky draws back casually, like they weren’t embracing like lost souls finally finding home again. “I’ve been looking for you since lunch.”

Steve blinks. “Wh- I’ve been looking for you since lunch! I know you lost your phone, but-“

“We’re idiots.” Bucky says. “Anyway, I just wanted to show you this thing I found-“

They start walking out, totally blind to Bruce’s presence. They get all the way to the elevator, still talking, when Bruce suddenly hears Steve shout, “Thank you Bruce!”

“Don’t mention it.” He laughs to himself, shaking his head. They probably hear him, with their enhanced ears. When he hears the elevator ding, he shakes his head, muttering, “Super soldiers.”

-

“So, I tell her, ‘hey, I know I’m called the falcon, but I can’t actually control birds’!”

Steve shakes his head as he laughs. "You're making this up, there's no way this actually happened."

“It did man!” Sam eagerly nods, smiling wide. “And then-“

Ting! “Oh, hold on.” Steve pauses, puts his hand up and checks his phone.

Sam’s used to it. Ever since Bucky gotten back, Steve’s been addicted to his phone. There’s one particular noise- that light ting- that indicates it’s Bucky talking. If it’s not that one sound, Steve can ignore his phone for days on end, but the second Bucky tries for Steve’s attention he has it. Sam gets it- having a friend like that, who seems like at any moment he could disappear, must have been something of a balancing act. And according to the history museums, Bucky and Steve were like brothers before the fall.

Steve stares at his phone for a long, long time- eyes narrowed like he’s considering something tricky.

“What is it?” Sam asks, trying for casual. Steve and Bucky worry the hell out of him, though. One second they’re laughing and joking and the next the two of them are running for the elevator to escape to their flat.

“Oh, uh,” Steve shows Sam the phone. “We’re trying to decide.”

Sam stares. It’s a crappy picture of peaches. “What?”

“You know. Decide which are the best.” He goes back to his phone, eyebrows furrowed in concentration. “It’s hard to pick out which are in really good condition, but between the two of us we usually get the best ones. I’m thinking… top row, starting from the left, the second one over, the fifth one over, and the sixth one over. Then second row-“

“Dude, that’s between you and James.” He shakes his head. “You guys are weird, you know that?”

He shrugs. “Don’t wanna spend money on food we’re not gonna be able to eat.”

“Well-“ Sam pauses. Yeah, okay, he kinda gets that one. They’re depression era kids, so they probably have it nailed into them to be sure that they can get their money’s worth out of everything, but still. “He really needs your help on this?”

“It’s always easier when you have two points of view.” Steve reasons.

Especially when you're attached at the hip, Sam thinks. He nods a little. “Yeah, I guess that makes sense. He buys food for the both of you?”

“He likes shopping.”

Sam laughs. “Man, there was a time I couldn’t imagine the Winter Soldier sitting down for breakfast and now… shopping for you two. Wow.”

“Yeah.” He grins, and then leans forward to show his phone off again. “See?” He pulls out his phone and shows Sam the string of texts on the screen.

Bucker Up Buttercup: we outta toothpaste?

Reply: yes

Bucker Up Buttercup: you still like there winter mint kind or u want something different

Bucker Up Buttercup: ?

Reply: I like the winter mint.

Bucker Up Buttercup: k

Reply: thanks! :)

“Huh.” Sam says, because he’s not sure what to say. “You guys are really close.”

“Yeah.” Steve says fondly.

Sam pauses at that. Wait a second. He thinks. Could they be…?

Steve laughs at some dumb selfie Bucky sends him with the peaches they’ve picked out. He sends back an even worse one with Sam grinning in the background.

… nah.

 

-

 

Natasha really loves Bucky, she does- and his fashion sense is usually impeccable but…

“What are you wearing?”

Bucky stops reading and looks up at her in confusion. “Huh?”

“What are you wearing?” She repeats. She’s kept quiet as long as she could stand it, but no more. She’s sat idly wondering about it the past three hours and she just can’t see him doing this without reason. It’s madness.

He looks down at his outfit. The jeans are usual, the shoes are usual, but that godawful shirt? “Oh.” He says, and laughs. “Yeah, it’s not mine.” He looks back at his book.

Okay. That leaves her with more questions than answers. “Is this some sort of code?” She asks, gesturing at him. “The plaid?”

“... I don’t think so.”

Well. It seems context clues won’t be enough this time around. As much as she hates it, she’ll have to ask directly. “Well, whose shirt is it, then?”

“Huh?” He looks back up. Damn, he must really be absorbed in this book to zone out like that. It makes her happy that he’s comfortable enough around her to do that, but at the same time, she hates repeating herself.

“The shirt. Whose is it?”

“Steve’s.” He goes back to reading.

“…” Well, she supposes that makes sense. She and Wanda swap clothes between each other. She even has one of Wanda’s jackets hanging in her closet, just a few feet away. Though, usually they borrow each others’ clothes because they look good and not like the lumberjack wannabe top that James is sporting.

A knock sounds at the door. Grateful for the distraction, she calls out, “Come in!”

Steve enters. “Hey, Buck, the bike’s fixed. Ready to get going?”

He nods, shutting his book, but keeping it in hand. Natasha doesn’t notice, though, as she’s staring at Steve.

“What are you wearing?” She demands.

Steve looks down at his shirt. Or, rather undershirt. Because Steve doesn’t wear tank tops; he insists they’re not proper clothing. “I know,” Steve starts. He frowns, a light blush rising on the high of his cheekbones. “It’s- um. Not really out-and-about clothing, um-“

“You want this one back?” Bucky pulls at the front of his plaid.

Steve smiles a little. “Na, that’s okay, Buck. You look nice in it.”

Natasha begs to disagree.

“Well you look nice in that.” Bucky says. He reaches out and clasps Steve’s naked bicep, grinning. “No one but you thinks its immodest, anyway. You don’t see anyone yelling at me when that’s all I wear, do you?”

Natasha puts two and two together and says, “Did you two trade shirts for the day?”

“…”

They meet eyes. They turn to her. They shrug.

“Sort of?” Steve says.

“Pretty much.” James adds.

She just turns back to her own book. “Boys.” She mutters, rolling her eyes.

 

-

 

Peter isn’t one to judge. As an awkward high school kid who has other awkward high school kid friends, and as a person who regularly dresses up in a costume to go climb walls, he really doesn’t have much room to judge anyone. There is a line, though. And he has to admit, Captain Rogers and Sergeant Barnes are weird.

He wishes he were cool and casual enough to say, ‘you know, there is more than one place setting in this tower’ but he isn’t casual, and when he gets around actual real-life-superheroes he isn’t really all that cool, either.

So instead he says, “I share food with my dog sometimes.”

He cringes.

 _What the hell?!_ He screams inside his head. _That’s what you go with? Your DOG? You just compared one of them to a dog! Maybe both. Oh my god why am I like this?_

They stop eating and look up at him. For a second, they don’t say anything. Captain Rogers takes a sip of their water, and Sergeant Barnes swallows a bite of their salad. They look at him, like they’re waiting for him to finish his sentence, or maybe try to save himself.

He’s learned by now it’s easier if he doesn’t try to save himself. If he opens his mouth he is just doubtlessly going to make it worse.

Sergeant Barnes turns to Rogers and, deadpan, says, “You hear that, Rover? You’re not the only special dog in the world.”

Captain Rogers glares at Barnes, mouth pressed into a thin line.

Peter wants to die.

“Here you go, boy.” Barnes continues, grinning. “Open up.” He shoves a piece of bread at Roger’s face.

Rogers bites it viciously, chomping down on Barnes’s fingers in the process.

“Sonofa-“

“Language.” Captain Rogers admonishes. He washes down the bread with another gulp from their glass.

“That hurt!” Barnes snaps. He yanks the glass of water away from Rogers and takes a long gulp, shaking his injured hand. He finishes off the glass, sets it down on the table, and says, “Ever heard of not biting the hand that feeds you?”

“Ever heard of just desserts?”

Barnes glares. “Next time,” he mutters, “I’ll feed you with the metal hand. See how your teeth like that.”

“Sure, Buck.” Rogers looks nonplussed.

Peter still can’t believe that he compared them to his dog. But really, he could have done worse. After all, why the hell are they sharing… every thing? One huge plate of chef’s salad and toasty bread should maybe, maybe fill up ONE super soldier. So why would they split it between the two of them? And that aside, sharing a cup? It’s kind of gross, isn’t it? And a fork, for that matter…

“I see you over there, spider kid.” Barnes says. “But if I don’t share with him he’ll eat all the good stuff off my plate.”

“And if I don’t share he’ll drink all of my water anyway.” Rogers mutters.

“It’s easier this way.” Barnes shrugs, spearing a tomato on their fork and handing it to Steve. “Plus, he eats the stuff I don’t like, so…”

“Waste not want not.” Rogers summarizes with a roll of his eyes. He takes the offered tomato.

Peter smells something fishy, but he doesn’t know what. “Right.” He says.

Adults are fucking weird.

 

-

 

Clint has to admit, when he dances with Natasha, there usually isn’t anyone in the room who can compare to the two of them. Maybe he’s gotten used to being stunning on her arm, maybe he’s gotten used to being the best. Maybe he likes it, even.

And maybe he’s a little baffled as to how two old men are beating them.

Okay, yeah, it’s not a competition- the team is doing ballroom dancing for fun and to practice for an upcoming gala that Pepper has told them they can’t fuck up at. She probably said different words, but that’s pretty much all Clint heard… Anyway. What the hell are Steve and Bucky doing?!

They’re shitty little bastards is what they are, Bucky guiding Steve over the dance floor while they laugh and smile and look generally like they’re having a good time. This is war. There are no good times and, damn it, how are they winning without even trying?!

Natasha leads him into a complicated maneuver. She’s clearly on the same page. They’re not going to be shown up by those dorks. Bucky, of course, catches the movement and thus spins and dips Steve like some kind of Disney prince. Russian assassins, it seems, are all taught to be badass dancers. But while it’s cool for Natasha to romance Clint into the ninth level of Dante’s inferno and back, he has no idea what the hell Bucky is doing.

Friends don’t dance like that.

And yet, they are.

“They’re outdoing us.” Clint hisses.

Natasha glares at them. “Why are they so happy?”

“I don’t know, but it’s not right.” He decides. “Do that, that thing.”

“On it.”

They up their game considerably. Clint is sure Bucky could keep up, but it’s clear that while Steve is excellent at being lead, he’s still not a natural dancer. They don’t keep up, to his delight.

Their victory is short-lived, though. Bucky and Steve don’t even care that they’ve been passed up; they just keep dancing. It’s alarming, that they’re having so much fun, and the way Bucky purposely trips Steve up is… endearing. It’s alarming, actually.

They’re moving around like an old married couple.

Fucking old-timer best friends. He curses in his mind. Acting like lovers.

“They’re still winning.” He sighs.

“I know.” Natasha says. She looks over at them and smiles a little. “It’s alright… just this once.”

“Just this once.” He agrees. “But next time?”

“We destroy them.”

Well, that’s good enough for him.

 

-

 

Wanda is powerful- she is crimson death and magic, she is the universe, she is everything and anything she wants or needs to be. Wanda is Scarlet Witch. Wanda is an Avenger.

Wanda is still a kid, in her own right.

She is quiet as she slips down the hall, careful to escape the notice the other Avengers getting late lunch. It’s not that she wants to avoid them, but there’s one person she wants to see at the moment, and its Da- Steve. It’s Steve.

Steve isn’t your dad. She reminds herself. Just because she’s started thinking of him as her honorary parental figure doesn’t mean she can think of him as dad.

She pads quietly down to the elevator and up to his flat. Finding the door slightly ajar and seemingly welcome, she lets herself in, calling out, “Captain?”

A fluffy head suddenly swings up from the couch. It’s James, and his hair a wreck. She can’t see the rest of him but his shirt is on, so she supposes it's okay for her to come in. He must have been napping. She doesn’t really know James, or Bucky- whatever she’s supposed to call him. They’ve met and talked in passing, but she has yet to really feel like she knows the guy. She’s not sure what to do.

“Hey kid.” He coughs.

“Hello…” She licks her lips. “Um, is Captain Rogers in right now?”

A hand raises up beside Bucky’s head. “Here!”

She blinks in surprise, but makes her way over to the huge couch. She feels a little awkward, but she came to see Steve, so she’s going to.

Steve’s underneath Bucky, and he looks sleepy and content. He cracks open an eye and says, “Oh, Wanda. Are you alright?” When she doesn’t answer right away his other eye opens and he sits up, ushering Bucky onto his haunches. “Is something wrong?”

She feels stupid. She’s just lonely, and now she’s interrupted him in his nap time. She opens her mouth to say she’ll go, but looking at him like this- domestic, and so much Steve and not at all the Captain- makes her choke up a little bit. She just wants to be around him for a little while, starved for comfort as she is. Ever since she joined the Avengers, Steve's always been there for her. He’s painted her nails and talked about boys with her, he’s brushed her hair and taken her shopping, he’s helped her sign forms and he’s helped her train and contain her powers.

She doesn’t realize she’s started to tear up until there’s a cold hand brushing her cheekbones.

“Hey, hey, sweetheart, it’s alright.”

She blinks big, watery eyes at Bucky, who’s carefully brushing the tears off her face.

“Who is it?” Steve demands, stony faced. “Who made you cry? I’ll find them, I’ll-“

“N-no one.” She hiccups, blushing bright. How silly to cry over something like this.

“Don’t think you can save them now.” Bucky chuckles. “Steve’ll take care of them, whoever they are, kid.”

“I’m just lonely.” She whispers.

For a moment, they’re quiet.

Then Bucky’s gathering her into his arms. He’s warm, and safe, and when Steve pulls them back onto the couch to sit in one huge mash of limbs Wanda can’t help but give in- the quiet sniffles turn to sobbing. Her heart swells; she doesn't even know Bucky and yet he cares about her, he's trying to comfort her, he's holding her. He and Steve have no obligation to make sure she's happy and yet they're trying their best.

They bracket her on the couch, both wrapping an arm around her. Bucky wipes her face and says “It’s alright, sweetheart,” in Romanian. Steve pushes her hair away from her face, keeps her close. It’s the closest thing to being with parents as she’s had since her own parents died.

“You can always come see us if you’re lonely.” Steve says.

“If you don’t mind the uncomfortable half-metal hugs some of us might give.” Bucky jokes.

She laughs a little, despite herself. “I don’t mind at all.” She really, really likes Bucky.

For a while, they stay like that. Wanda eventually stops crying and just relaxes, enjoying the attention and the love that she's been needing so desperately. She takes in a long, deep breath and realizes she doesn’t feel so awful anymore. It's okay.

She thinks back to when she walked in- Bucky on top of Steve, the two of them cuddled up together while they napped. She thinks they must get lonely, too. She remembers kissing Pietro’s cheek after being apart from him for even a short period of time and thinks that Bucky and Steve are lucky to have that.

Except, she never slept on top of her brother.

Perhaps they… She looks up at their smiling faces, laughing a little when Bucky messes up her hair.

“Wanna play cards?” He points at a discarded game on the coffee table across from the couch. “Steve’s a cheat, but it’s still fun.”

“Hey!”

… no, they’re just friends, right? “That sounds wonderful.” She decides.

And so they play.

 

-

 

“So we all know the old man joke thing ran out ages ago-“

“For you, maybe. I’m still getting milage.” Clint mutters.

Tony ignores him and continues. “-but the blushing virgin thing? Totally hasn’t been played, especially not since Frosty got here. But the guy hasn’t gone on one date, okay, so we can all assume he hasn’t gotten so much as a kiss since the forties.”

“I kissed him.” Natasha helps.

Peter, Wanda, and Sam splutter. Bruce doesn’t so much as look up from his papers.

“Yeah but a fake kiss does’t count.” Tony says; they have to call him a genius for something. He can put two and two together. “So! I’m thinking up some sort of prank. Cap has been way too smug as of late and I need to take him down a peg. If we can get him to blush and stutter while we’re at it, so much the better.”

Clint’s on board. “Yeah, I mean, ninety years old and you haven’t gotten any? Sad.”

“Exactly.” Tony puts a finger on the tip of his nose and points at clint with his other hand. “So-“

The door opens. Steve comes walking in like a zombie. He steps one foot into the kitchen and scowls. “What is everyone doing in my kitchen?”

“My tower.” Tony defends.

Steve shrugs and heads over to the coffee maker.

 _It’s almost too easy._ Tony thinks, giddily. _He really is an old man, I mean, look at the robe. Who wears a robe anymore? And slippers? The poor guy looks like he-_

He pauses.

What the hell?

There, on Steve’s neck, is a suspicious dark spot. Tony moves to get a better view, but he really doesn't need to. Steve leans back against the sink to drink his coffee, facing the lot of them. And he’s completely covered in hickies.

For a moment all Tony (and the rest of the team) can do is stare. He wants to believe they're bruises- tons of small, circular bruises- from a sparring match or something. The teeth marks at his throat are from, from a weapon or something. As the robe slides further open and reveals perfectly sculpted pecs- _goddamn it super serum_ \- he is surprised to see the red and blue minefield continues and darkens. That’s undoubtedly a set of teeth marking his right breast.

What. The. Fuck.

“C-Captain Rogers.” Peter stutters. “What happened to you?”

“Holy shit.” Sam says. He’s slack-jawed, but there’s something in his eyes- something close to understanding and it makes Tony stiff. “Are those-“

“Hickies.” Clint says, dumbly.

“Those are hickies.” Natasha confirms.

Bruce looks up for a moment, raises a brow, blushes, and goes back to his paper.

Tony is- he’s. He’s flabbergasted. He has no other word. Flabber-fucking-gasted.

Steve blinks at them, still clearly half-asleep. He looks down at his robe, finds it slipping open, and draws it closed. “You’re the ones in my kitchen.” He grumbles. Steve is never a ray of sunshine in the morning, but this is too much.

Tony’s system reboots. “Who- oh my. Oh, oh my.” He laughs. “Oh, Cap, you’ve been holding out on us. Tell us, who’s the lucky lady?” And then he realizes something. “Oh my god. This is too much- is she still here? Do you have a one-night-stand holed up in your bedroom while we- while we all wait out here for you, and-“ he can’t believe this. There’s no way those are hickies. This is- this is the cap they’re talking about. Innocent, virgin Cap.

Steve finishes his coffee and goes to the machine for a re-fill. It’s around then that Bucky enters the scene.

“Aha! Frosty! Did you know that cap has a girlfri-“ He stops.

If Steve looks bad, Bucky looks eight times worse. Maybe it’s because the man is shirtless, only wearing pajama pants, but dear god. He’s got the clear imprints of fucking handprints on his hips, blackening teeth marks along his throat, and dark hickies blooming all over his torso.

He walks past them to the coffee machine. There are claw marks shredding his back.

They stare.

Bucky wraps his arms around Steve and sets his chin on Steve’s shoulder. Steve lifts the cup up to him, allowing Bucky to take a long drink.

“Mornin’.” Bucky yawns. He kisses Cap’s neck.

“Morning.” Steve answers. He takes another drink.

“M’ gonna shower.” Bucky says. “You gonna make breakfast?”

“The team’s here, I’m sure someone will get hungry.” Steve says. He sets the cup down and turns around with Bucky, heading back towards their rooms. “I need a shower, too, you know.”

“You always hog the whole fucking shower, though.” Bucky grumbles. He follows after Steve, regardless.

The door clicks shut.

For a moment, it’s silent- completely and desolately quiet. Tony was certain that if someone were to drop a pin on the first floor, they’d hear it.

Instead, they hear the shower turn on.

“Oh my god.” Wanda says. She's turned scarlet.

“Did- are they- did they-” Sam’s eyes are huge.

“Huh. That sure explains a lot.” Petter allows.

“Hm.” Natasha sips at her own coffee.

Bruce sighs. “Steve’s right, you know, this is his kitchen, maybe we should leave.”

“I-“ Clint wheezes. “He. They.”

Tony can’t agree more.

“Like. This explains everything.” Sam goes on. “How- how did we miss this?”

Tony isn’t sure he remembers how to work his jaw.

“Well.” Natasha stands. “The Captains right. Someone should make breakfast.”

“I’ll help!” Peter declares. He rushes to his feet.

Wanda leans back, looking star struck, and says, “But which one is mom?” To herself.

Tony can’t breath.

“W-well.” He manages. He manages a breath. “I guess the prank isn’t going to work.”

At the word ‘prank’ Clint seems to reanimate. “Prank. A prank!” He looks out at the rest of the flat, to the guest bathroom, and then grins. He turns back to to Tony. “This opens up a whole world of new pranks.”

Tony looks over at the bathroom, too. Who gives a shit that apparently frosty and cap are fucking? (An fucking damn, damn well, it looks like.) This- this really is perfect! “You’re thinking what I’m thinking, right, Barton?”

“You know I am.”

They make a mad dash for the bathroom.

A moment later, and Natasha shakes her head as she hears the toilet repeatedly flush. There’s yelling from Steve’s room- Bucky roars “YOU’RE DEAD” while Tony and Clint flee the scene snickering like a couple of middle school kids.

And to think they’d missed it all this time.


	2. Steve & Bucky

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This one has a fair bit of smut at the end. (Like... 5 pages or so.) So I've upped the rating. Same content as chapter one, but with Steve and Buck's POV on the subject- explaining all the shenanigans and such. Not edited yet, will likely do that in a day or so. I had a ton of computer trouble on this chapter and lost a bunch that I had to re-type, so I'm not really in the mood to go over it now. Anyway, enjoy!

Bucky has been looking for Steve all fucking day. 

It’s not like they go crazy if they haven’t talked to each other in an hour- Bucky’s gone on missions that lasted weeks where he couldn’t talk to Steve almost at all- it’s just the fact that he can’t find Steve that makes him crazy.

He and Steve are catching up on things that developed when they were on ice. The internet is a vast and wonderful place, even if it does have its horrors, and they’ve recently been trying to understand what the hell a meme is. It seems like it’s a category of sequential viral images, or texts, but memes don’t have to have anything alike in order to be a meme. 

Steve likes the ones inspired by Jurassic Park, where zoo keepers and the like imitate Chris Pratt’s pose with his dinosaurs. Bucky finds one of a girl holding off tiny piglets and realizes that Steve’s going to love it.

And then he can’t find Steve. 

Panic sets in.

He knows that Steve is fine! Steve is a super soldier, first of all, and he’s no longer in danger of breathing himself to death. Beyond that, Steve’s a clever little bastard with wit sharp enough to cut diamond. To top it all off, they’re in the tower, which is a pretty damn safe place- all things considered. 

And yet, he can’t find Steve, doesn’t know _how_ to find Steve, and the fact that he has something to show Steve makes it all worse. 

He combs the tower over twice and realizes that it’s just too fucking big. Steve’s hard to fucking miss, but in this place? Well, there’s just too many holes in the net; he could slip through anywhere while Bucky’s looking. And he got in trouble the last time he hacked the tower’s systems to find something he’d lost, and he’s trying to stay on Stark’s good side for Steve’s sake.

He remembers Steve had been meaning to go see Banner, so he sets off for Hulk’s personal floor. He waits. He waits. And he walks. 

Banner himself is busy, and Bucky knows better than to interrupt the people in this tower when they’re working. He’s been shooed, screamed at, and attacked for such things before- and he really, really doesn’t want to be on Banner’s bad side. 

So he walks. 

And walks. 

And walks. 

He contemplates all the horrible things that have most likely not happened to Steve. His top scenario includes him being conned out of the building by a box of abused puppies and lured into a van, but he has about fifty other ones brewing.

He’s worried. He knows he doesn’t need to be worried, but damn it, he can’t help it. If he’d known he wouldn’t be seeing Steve, it would be perfectly fine, but he’s never been good with having the rug swept out from underneath him, even in small situations like this. For fuck’s sake, by ten he knows Steve will be heading to bed. _Their_ fucking bed; he _will_ see Steve if he can just wait another couple of hours.

As he rounds the corner for what is probably the hundredth time, he checks to see if Banner’s still working. 

_Yup, keep moving, maybe later-_ he pauses. _Wait, no, he’s not busy. Nice._

Bucky casually leans against the doorway. He doesn’t want to come off as desperate- he’s the Winter Soldier, damn it. “You know where Stevie is?” If Steve dropped by before Bucky had gotten there, Banner will know where he was headed. 

Banner shakes his head. “I don’t.”

“Damn.” Feeling slightly foolish, he attempts to explain, and to lure Banner into helping him. He’s not gonna _ask_ , Banner would make fun of him just like Sam had. “Because I was gonna text him but I can’t fucking remember where I left my fucking phone yesterday. I’ll have to ask Stark, damn it.”

Banner stares at him. “… Okay?”

Clearly he hasn’t explained enough. That, or Banner isn’t going to help without being asked outright, which will suck. “I combed this whole damn tower and I think I must keep missing him or something. Steve, I mean, not Stark- it’s hard to miss Stark. Steve tells me when he’s going out so-“

“Would you like me to text him?”

He raises his brows. “You’re not gonna make fun of me?” Well. He likes Banner more than before, now- he just earned at least five points in the ol’ book.

“No.” Banner sighs, pinching the bridge of his nose. “Is that why you’ve been stalking all over this floor?”

Stalking? He was just… walking. And waiting. Stalking implies following. Whatever. “You were busy. And besides, Steve keeps saying he’s been meaning to see you, so I thought maybe when I wasn’t around he’d come up here and-“

Banner pulls his phone out. “I’ll text him.”

Bucky swallows back a grin. He’s an assassin, damn it. A cold, elusive ghost. 

“He’ll be here in a second.”

_Yes!_ He does a mental fist-pump. He manages to swallow back a grin as he nods, nonchalant. He doesn’t _really_ need to see Stevie. He’s just… hanging out. With Banner. And Steve happens to be invited to their location. Yeah. That’s all. 

There’s a noise in the hallway. Bucky eagerly thrusts his head out of the doorway, hoping to see Steve, but he’s not there. Damn it.

“Were you on mission?”

Pleasantries have never been his thing, but he owes Banner now. “Uh, no.”

“Oh. Were you out?”

“Been here all day.”

“… Was Steve on mission?”

This is weird small talk. “No.”

“Oh. It’s just…”

He turns back to Banner, brows furrowed. “Just what?”

“Well, you seem so eager to see him…” Banner shrugs. “Has one of you been away?”

Bucky feels himself blush and tries to act casual. He shrugs, saying, “Nah, saw him this morning. Just miss ‘im.” Which, admittedly, isn’t very casual and sounds way too sappy. Oh well. It’s not like the others haven’t noticed that he and Steve are together, anyway. There’s no way they could miss it.

He hears the ding of the elevator and lurches back out of the doorway. Steve comes hurrying down the hallway; a mess of blush and mused blond hair. He must have been outside- it’s cold and windy; another reason he should have been with Steve all day. It’s fucking perfect curl-up-on-the-couch-with-a-hot-drink-and-make-out weather. 

“Buck!” Steve grins wide and raises a hand in greeting before he reaches the doorway.

Bucky eagerly opens his arms and grabs Steve, hauling him in for a long hug. All that previous dumb anxiety melts out of his boy as he holds on to Steve; breathing in his scent and the smell of the chilled wind on his jacket. Steve’s body is cold, but he’s already warming up. Bucky bites back a laugh when Steve’s icy nose presses into his neck. 

Everything’s alright again, just like he knew it would be. 

“Man, thought I’d never find you. This tower is too damn big.” Bucky draws back a little, not missing the way Steve instinctively follows him. “I’ve been looking for you since lunch.” Poor Steve must be fucking freezing. They’ll fix that when they get back to their floor. 

Steve blinks. “Wh- I’ve been looking for you since lunch! I know you lost your phone, but-“

Surprise, surprise. God, looking for each other they must have passed each other up a dozen times. “We’re idiots.” He shakes his head. But they’ve always been idiots, so it’s easy to move past. “Anyway, I just wanted to show you this thing I found,” they turn and start walking out; Steve is clearly due to be warmed up if his freezing hand is anything to go by. “You’re gonna laugh real hard, Steve, oh my god. You know those little tiny pigs? The, uh, the micro pigs?”

“I know of them.” Steve grins and winds their fingers together. 

“Well I found- I found this meme with them. You’re gonna love it, I swear.”

Steve laughs. They reach the elevator and he turns to face down the hall. He yells, “Thank you, Bruce!” Turning back to Bucky he says, “Micro pigs, huh? Never seen a meme with them in it.”

“It’s fantastic, trust me.”

“Hm.” Steve looks him over. “Well, I guess you’ll just have to show me when we get back.” They step into the elevator and Steve throws his arms up over Bucky’s shoulders. 

“Yeah?” He hooks his thumbs in the belt loops of Steve’s jeans to tug him closer. “Anything else I should show ya’ while I’m at it?”

Steve’s breath is warm as it ghosts over Bucky’s lips. “I’ve got an idea or two.”

“Can’t wait.” He laughs. 

-

 

Steve is sometimes baffled by how damn well Sam can put a story together. They’re so fantastical that he sometimes can’t help but wonder if they’re even true- but they always are; Sam just knows how to weave the dialog and story together to make every re-telling better than the last. 

He’s getting to the end of an incredible date-gone-wrong when Steve hears his phone chime. Now, he’s a polite person, he really, really is, but he’s also pretty sure he’s stuck in the honeymoon phase with Bucky. 

He fumbles to get his phone out of his pocket, holding a hand up to pause Sam. “Oh, hold on.” Sam’s been in love before; Steve knows he’ll understand. 

Buck Me: hey peaches are on sale

Reply: Is this a euphemism or…?

Buck Me: no peaches are literally on sale. jesus not everything with me is sexting 

Reply: you tried to sext me by sending a picture of an eggplant the other day.

Buck me: kiss my ass

Reply: really?

Buck Me: pucker up, buttercup

Reply: Bucker up

Buck me: -_-

Reply: That’s your new name.

Bucker Up Buttercup: REALLY?!

Reply: :) 

Bucker Up Buttercup: Whatever. Here’s the picture of the peaches. [attachment]

Steve opens the image and narrows his eyes. Bucky’s picked a good angel, but it’s still hard to tell which peaches are in the best condition. They always do this; sometimes they can debate over a single item for ten minutes straight. The peaches, though, all look to be in pretty good shape. Finding the best of the best won’t be a challenge between the two of them. 

“What is it?” Sam asks.

“Oh, uh,” He holds the phone out to show Sam the picture. “We’re trying to decide.”

“…What?”

“You know. Decide which are the best.” Steve pulls the phone back to look hard at it. He’s good at this; he’s already got his favorites singled out. They usually get the top ten. “It’s hard to pick out which are in really good condition, but between the two of us we usually get the best ones. I’m thinking… top row, starting from the left, the second one over, the fifth one over, and the sixth one over. Then second row-“

“Dude, that’s between you and James.” He shakes his head. “You guys are weird, you know that?”

Steve shrugs. “Don’t wanna spend money on food we’re not gonna be able to eat.”

“Well-“ Sam pauses. “He really needs your help on this?”

“It’s always easier when you have two points of view.” And Bucky _loves_ conformation on his decisions. Being told he’s right and that he did good really makes his day, so Steve has no problem with it. That aside, he really does like helping- even like this. It’s kind of fun. Not to mention they really do want their money’s worth. The two of them eat too much food to be squandering. 

“Yeah, I guess that makes sense. He buys food for the both of you?”

“He likes shopping.”

Sam laughs and shakes his head. He says, “Man, there was a time I couldn’t imagine the Winter Soldier sitting down for breakfast and now…” He grins. “Shopping for you two. Wow.”

“Yeah.” Steve says, fondly. He gets another few texts from Buck and quickly replies to them before holding the phone out so that Sam can see. Bucky’s asking about toothpaste, and of course he remembers what kind Steve likes. “See?”

Sam squints at the screen for a second before drawing back. “Huh. You guys are really close.”

“Yeah.”

Bucker Up Buttercup: anything else you want while i’m here stevie?

reply: only thing I want is you

Bucker Up Buttercup: You sap. 

Reply: I love you~ 

Bucker Up Buttercup: Love you too. I’ll see you soon [attachment]

Steve opens the image and laughs. Bucky’s making a kiss face at the camera while holding up the peaches in victory, ready to head home. He’s such a dope, and god, Steve’s a dope for him.

 

-

 

This book is incredible. 

Bucky fucking loves old-time romance novels, but this? A detective falling for the thief he’s after? It’s too much. He loves the sass, the quirks, the chase. The detective always comes this close before the thief slips away, and it’s maddening, but it’s wonderful. He’d fling himself off the roof before admitting to the fact that he loves this kind of cheesy romantic crap, but god, it’s good.

Natasha is talking to him.

“Huh?”

She glares. She doesn’t like to be ignored, even if it isn’t on purpose. “What are you wearing?”

For a second he’s taken off-guard. He looks down at his outfit, because what _is_ he wearing, and then oh- oh, yeah. He’s wearing Steve’s shirt. “Oh.” Yeah, it’s ugly, he’ll admit it. It’s grandpa clothes, through and through. Steve looks good in it, though, so he figures he can’t be doing too badly. Still, he can’t have Nat thinking he’d actually buy this kind of crap. “Yeah, it’s not mine.”

“…Is it some sort of code? The plaid?” She points at the offending shirt like it disgusts her.

He just snorts. “I don’t think so.”

He looks back down at his book.

_He pushes the window open slowly, carefully, gloved hands sliding along the glass. He sees a shadow in the kitchen- the glint of diamonds dripping from a cloaked figure's fingers. He carefully pulls up the camera, ready to capture evidence that will force the case into progress, holding his breath._

_The figure turns and the light catches on wide eyes. Wide eyes, soul-snatching baby blue, light up in the dim-_

Natasha is talking again.

“Huh?” He was just getting to the good part, damn it. Once they confront each other this time, he’s certain they’ll either fight or spew their feelings. Maybe both. God he hopes it’s both. He hopes the detective gets punched in the face and then kissed in the same spot, just like he and Steve-

“The shirt.”

Right. Focus. Natasha will punch him in the face and _not_ kiss it better if he doesn’t pay attention. 

“Whose is it?”

At least she’s easy to answer. “Steve’s.”

Now. Where was he?

_Wide eyes, soul-snatching baby blue, light up in the dim. They widen in alarm before the diamonds clatter to the floor._

_For a moment it’s quiet. There’s a sudden snap and a flash, and just like that he has the evidence. The picture prints itself into Jack’s open hand. He shakes the photograph absentmindedly, grinning. “Looks like you’ve been caught.” He puts the camera in his bag and holds the picture up. “There’s no mistaking eyes like yours.”_

_“You-_

“Come in!”

Bucky curses in his head as Natasha yells. The door opens as Steve steps into her room and Bucky decides maybe the book can wait after all. Because holy fuck does Steve look like fucking dessert in that muscle shirt.

_Dear God,_ he prays, _Never let Steve figure out that they actually make clothes that will fit him. Amen._

Even if that is his shirt, Steve’s no better. And damn does he look good. 

“Hey, Buck, the bike’s fixed. Ready to get going?”

Oh, he’s ready to get gong alright. He nods casually and closes his book. He keeps it in hand, though; this one can’t wait until the next time he wants to lounge in Nat’s room with her. This one’s likely to keep him up into the wee hours of the morning. 

“What are _you_ wearing?” Natasha demands, staring at Steve.

Bucky bites back a snicker. 

“I know,” Steve starts, blushing. “It’s- um. Not really out-and-about clothing, um-“

“You want this one back?” Bucky purrs, tugging at the front of his shirt. 

Steve smirks. “Na, that’s okay, Buck.” He looks up from under his lashes- the cheater- and says, “You look nice in it.”

Fuck. Him.

This, this shit right here? This is exactly why they’ve swapped clothes in the first place. Early that morning Steve had just- god, Steve’s always a fucking tease, and he really does love it, but that morning he’d literally dragged Steve into Natasha’s walk-in closet for a quickie while they waited on Nat and Clint to get back from breakfast. They’d had their pants and such done back up when they heard Natasha come in. Bucky had picked up what he thought to be his shirt at the time, thrown it on, pulled on his jacket and run out to lead her off to get food so that Steve could escape. If she knew what they’d done, after all, she’d either tease them to death or straight-up kill them. 

Steve had been left with Bucky’s undershirt. It had worked out nicely. 

“Well,” Bucky starts, “ _you_ look nice in _that_.” He leans forward, caressing Steve’s naked bicep, grinning when the flush on Steve’s cheekbones goes deeper. “No one but you thinks its immodest, anyway. You don’t see anyone yelling at me when that’s all I wear, do you?” He wants to lean forwards and kiss Steve- show him what immodest really looks like- but they actually do have places to be.

“Did you two trade shirts for the day?”

Bucky freezes. He sees Steve do the same. They have to play this cool- if Natasha gets any ideas about what they were doing…

“Sort of?” Steve says. 

Vague then. Good route. “Pretty much.”

She just shakes her head and returns to her own book. “Boys,” she mutters, rolling her eyes.

Bucky grins at Steve.

_Crisis averted._

Now, if they can finish up this mission on time, he can finally read on and see if the detective will have the balls to arrest his crook, or set the chase into motion once again. Either way, he knows they’re in for one hell of a ride.

“Wanna trade shirts again?” Steve whispers on their way out.

… Or, maybe the mission doesn’t have to get done _right_ away. The book can wait. “Well, it’d be the right thing to do. You might get cold.”

“You’d better warm me up then.” Steve says. He grabs Bucky’s shirt and pulls him backwards into the next empty room they pass.

Yeah. The book can _definitely_ wait.

 

-

 

Steve’s not a bad cook. He’s not a _great_ cook, but the things he can make, he can make well. Bucky, on the other hand, is an excellent cook. Steve doesn’t like to say he steals most of the food Buck makes, but it’s just so good, that over the years he found himself unable to help but sneak little bits of Bucky’s food form his plate. (Bucky had always know, of course. Steve hadn’t been slick in the least.)

There’s never really been a time where they didn’t share food, but now they do it more than ever. Steve loves it. He doesn’t know what it is about sharing things like this that’s just intimate to him, but it is, and he knows Bucky feels the same way. They’ve both been known to avoid getting something for themselves just so that they can share, and Steve loves it for no real reason. It’s just that they can, now, and they can be open about it.

Steve watches Bucky chop vegetables for their huge chef’s salad. He wraps his arms around Bucky’s waste and kisses his neck. “It looks nice.”

“I prefer to be called ‘you’ and not ‘it’ Rogers.”

He pokes Bucky’s gut. “I meant the salad, you ass.”

“You only love me for my salads.”

“That’s not true,” Steve laughs softly against Bucky’s neck. “I also love your soups.”

Bucky huffs. “Some boyfriend you are.”

“Are you almost done? I’m hungry.”

“This whole thing would go a lot faster if I didn’t have some big lug clinging to my back.”

“Hmm.” He puts a last kiss on Bucky’s neck before drawing back to get a tall glass from the cabinet. “Guess I’ll let you be, then.” He heads to the sink to fill his cup up.

“Aw, Stevie, you know I was joking- get back here and love me you punk.”

“Oh, my feelings are far too hurt.” Steve laughs. He walks over and sits at the kitchen table, grinning. “You’re gonna have to make up to me first, Barnes.”

“Oh yeah?” He stalks over and grabs Steve’s collar, smirking. “How’s this for making out?” He presses his lips hard to Steve, nipping a little, but the effect is ruined by the fact that they’re both smiling so hard.

“I said make up, not make out.” Steve laughs.

“Damn it, Steve, I was trying to be smooth.”

“Yeah? Why don’t you run that one by me again, maybe I just missed it.” He laughs and holds Bucky’s wrists as the other man dives back in for another deep kiss.

The elevator out in the hall dings. They pull apart with a laugh. “Guess that’s my cue.” Bucky declares, turning back around to finish making their salad. 

“Back to it, soldier.” Steve taps his ass as he walks away. 

“Frisky today, aren’t we Rogers?” Bucky laughs. Still, he heads back over to the counter to finish making their salad. “We’ll have to put that to good work later.”

Steve’s unable to give a clever reply before Peter throws the door open, happily marching into the kitchen. He throws his backpack on the table, saying, “Captain Rogers, Sergeant Barnes!” He salutes them both. “Good afternoon.”

“Good afternoon to you, too, Marjor Dweeb.” Bucky chuckles.

Peter pouts. 

“It’s good to see you, Peter.” Steve says.

“I’ve got a ton of homework to do.” The teen sighs. He pulls out some books and a lunchbox, “But Miss Potts has the staff make me these cool lunches now that I pick up on the way to school! Isn’t the awesome?”

“What’s in it?” Bucky asks. “PB and J?”

“Oh, you know Miss Potts. It’s always a well balanced meal.” He opens his lunchbox and says, “Today it’s a club sandwich with chilled cucumber soup.”

“Why, back in our day, yer ma’ packed you a bread crust and some lawn clippings in yer bag and called it good.” Bucky drones. “None of this fancy palate stuff you youngins’ have.”

“And that was when we could afford the bread crusts.” Steve tacks on, automatically. “We worked fourteen hours every Saturday-“

“-and Sunday!”

“Except for mass-“

“-of course.”

“Just to be able to afford the good crust off the bakery bread.” Steve finished. 

Peter sighs. “Why do you two always do this to me?”

“Do your homework, kiddo.” Bucky says. He’s finished making the Salad so he moves over to the table and sits down by Steve, offering the plate up. 

“Looks good, Buck.”

“Well don’t just look at it; taste it.”

Steve rolls his eyes and does what he’s told. He’s ridiculously hungry, anyway.

They fall into a comfortable quiet as Peter does his homework. The kid finishes, puts it all into his bag, and then turns to his lunch. As he eats he casually looks around the room, and at Steve and Bucky’s lunch several times, but he’s blessedly silent for the most part. Steve likes Peter, but the kid can really talk. He doesn’t like watching the poor guy flounder and inevitably put his foot in his mouth, either. Genius kids sometimes have that problem. Brain works too fast for their mouths to keep up. Steve had gotten popped on the mouth for that very reason once or twice when he was younger. Not that he was a genius. 

Steve becomes aware of Peter staring at him and Bucky, but that’s Peter.

“I share food with my dog sometimes.”

Steve cringes. Poor kid. He just can’t catch a damn break, and by the expression on Peter’s face the teen knows it, too. Open mouth, insert foot. 

He waits for Peter to try to save himself. He reaches out to take a drink of his water as soon as Bucky sets it down, wondering if there’s any possible way Peter can make this worse. He’s pretty sure the teen can, but he wonders exactly how much worse. 

Peter is silent. That’s probably better, for his sake.

“You hear that, Rover?” Bucky starts. 

Steve sighs. Of course Bucky couldn’t fucking pass it up.

“You’re not the only special dog in the in world.”

Steve stares at him, mouth pressed into a thin line. He telegraphs, _the divorce papers will hit you so quick you’ll get whiplash,_ but of course Bucky just grins. They’d have to get married in order for Steve to divorce him, anyway. He’ll have to get on that. 

“Here you go, boy.” Barnes continues- a shit eating grin breaking out over his features. “Open up.” He shoves a piece of bread at Steve’s mouth.

Steve opens his mouth for the bread and is sure to bite down on Bucky’s fingers in the process. He’s not gentle about it, either.

“Sonofa-“

“Language.” He admonishes cheerfully. 

“That hurt!” Barnes snaps. He yanks the glass of water away from Steve and takes a long gulp, shaking his injured hand. He finishes off the glass, sets it down on the table, and says, “Ever heard of not biting the hand that feeds you?”

“Ever heard of just desserts?” Steve says back easily.

He can see Bucky hates what a good reply it was. He grins.

“Next time,” Bucky hisses, “I’ll feed you with the metal hand. See how your teeth like that.”

Well, he certainly does love Bucky’s metal hand in his mouth, as well as other places, so he doesn’t really see the problem so long as he minds his teeth. (And he usually does.) “Sure, Buck.” He smiles a little, certain that Bucky knows exactly what he’s thinking.

By the way he glares back, Steve knows he’s right. 

Peter makes a small noise, causing Bucky to turn on him. “I see you over there, Spider Kid.” He points. Time for the explanation, it seems. “But if I don’t share with him he’ll eat all the good stuff off my plate.”

“And if I don’t share he’ll drink all of my water anyway.” Steve knows they’re really grasping for straws here. When it boils down to it, they share because they like to, and that’s that. Still, he’ll go along with it for the sake of their dignity- not that they really need to save much in front of Peter, of all people. 

“It’s easier this way.” Barnes continues. He forks a tomato on his fork to offer up to Steve. “Plus, he eats the stuff I don’t like, so…”

“Waste not want not.” Steve summarizes with a roll of his eyes.

“… Right.” Peter says.

“S’not like spits the worst thing swapped between us, anyway.” Bucky mutters, just a little to quiet for Peter to hear.

Steve just glares. _Yeah,_ he thinks, _real smooth, Buck. Real smooth._

He continues to eat off the idiot’s fork anyhow. 

 

-

 

One of Bucky’s oldest wishes was to dance with Steve.

Back in the day, when they’d gone out on dates with girls, and he’d lead his date along the dance floor while Steve hung back at their table, he’d found himself wanting nothing more than to be able to dance with Steve. It wasn’t right, though, and so he’d had to dream on silently. A few times he’d convinced Steve to accept his offers for dance lessons in their apartment. Those memories are some of the fondest he has. 

This, however, is something all new and bright. It’s not the maple syrup romance of a dim lit room and holding Steve close, thinking he could never have him. This is the bright champagne bubbles of a sunlit room where he can swing Steve around and laugh until he’s out of breath. 

He spins Steve, like a girl, and laughs even harder when Steve scowls at him.

“Hey, be fair.” Steve mutters, looking at his shoes. 

“You’re gonna stumble if you keep looking at your shoes, pal.” He puts a hand at Steve’s jaw and tilts his head back up. “Just keep your eyes on me.”

Steve flushes, but he does as he’s told. “Still think you ain’t playing fair.” He grumbles.

“You wanna spin me, too?”

“As a matter of fact,” he pauses for the turn, “I do.”

“Oh?” He laughs again. Switching his hold over to Steve he says, “Go ahead.”

He spins, and spins, and spins, but Steve doesn’t end the move right. Bucky ends up falling into his chest and laughing again, a little lightheaded. “This is why I lead.” He says. 

“Couldn’t help it.” Steve laughs. 

“Sure you couldn’t.” He glances over and catches Natasha and Clint staring at them, eyes narrowed. He chuckles and leans into Steve, mouth at his ear. “Looks like we got an audience.”

“You just noticed?” Steve snorts. “I was stumblin’ over my shoes for a reason.”

“Nat can be intimidating, huh?” He draws back. “Let’s give ‘em a show, yeah?”

“Your lead, Buck.”

He knows several dances, but he goes with the simple and elegant type that Steve will be able to keep up with. Steve might not be able to lead worth a damn, but he’s good at reading into body movement. He understands the push and pull of the space around them and gets the cues Bucky gives him easily, following as he will. 

Looking at Steve like this, with his cheeks flushes, sunlight flittering through his golden hair, Bucky could fall in love all over again. The light his Steve’s eyes just right and his pupils shrink to show off the blue of his eyes. They shift and his pupils dilate again, going wide, taking in Bucky. He licks his lips and tries not to grin, but he fails. They’re both smiling huge, like idiots. 

He loves it.

He glances over again and sees Clint and Nat look smug as they go into some sort of fancy maneuver. So, it was a couple’s rivalry then. Well, usually he’d be game, but Steve’s laughter is too wonderful to trade in for a game. He turns back to Steve and resists the urge to kiss him- they’re in public, damn it, and though he’s certain the dance instructor is under contract, he still doesn’t want to take any chances. He looks over to where Wanda is doing excellent on Thor’s arm, laughing loudly as he tells her some dumb story. Peter is the one struggling along with the instructor, apologizing every couple of seconds. 

Yeah. He and Steve are good.

He turns back to Steve and leads him into another spin- Steve loves that- and easily catches him on the rebound. “You’re not bad.”

“Good, even?” Steve asks.

“Hm.” He sticks his foot out and trips Steve up, snorting when Steve falls into him. “Maybe not yet.”

“Still not playin’ fair.” Steve mutters. He slips his hands up over Bucky’s shoulders. A waltz, then, so they can stay pressed chest-to-chest. “You should take your hair down.” He says, fingers playing with the strands that have fallen lose from his bun to lie against his neck. “It’d look good when we spin around.”

“It always looks good.” He reaches up and pulls the band out anyway, shaking it free. Steve runs a hand through it and hums his containment, continuing to follow Bucky’s steps. “You like that?”

“Mm.” They slow a little. 

He wants to stay like this forever. 

“You gonna try an’ trip me up again if I keep my eyes on you?”

“Nah.” He gives Steve a crooked grin. “Wouldn’t want ya’ lookin’ at your shoes again.”

“Hey.”

“Hm?”

“The music’s stopped.”

Bucky pauses. “So it has.” He muses. He doesn’t stop dancing. 

Steve laughs again. “Never one to stop dancing till he got thrown out, huh?”

“And who’s badass enough to throw me out now?”

“Me.”

“I’m dancing with you, punk- you ain’t gonna throw me out. It’s Natasha or nothing.”

“And what if I don’t want to dance with you anymore?”

He grins. “Hey,” He says, “You can’t go back on me now. After all-“ once last spin, and then he dips Steve low, grinning wildly. “-Your with me til’ the end of the line.”

Steve bumps their foreheads together. “Yeah.”

Bucky pulls him to his feet and ruffles his hair. “Come on,” he says. “Lunch break. I’ll let ya’ spin me around when we’re fueled up again.”

“Think I could throw you in the air? Like a ballerina?”

“Pal, if that’s what you want, I’ll let you throw me in the air like a fucking football.”

Steve laughs heartily, loudly. His ears flush at the tip. “Good.” His eyes sparkle with love, and promise, and happiness. He looks overjoyed as he bumps his hip into Bucky’s. “Good.”

 

-

 

“Hey.”

Steve looks up from his book as Bucky comes in, slamming the door behind him. “Hey, Buck. You okay?”

“Long mission.” He huffs. He throws his coat towards a chair, shucks his shoes, and then slumps over the back of the couch. His sweaty hair presses up against Steve’s cheek.

“You stink.” Steve says. 

“I know.” He groans. “Even my ass is sweaty.”

“Go shower.”

Bucky stands up, groaning. He heads towards Steve’s room (their room) and then pauses in the doorway. “You wanna join me?” He asks. 

“Not right now.” Steve holds the book up.

Bucky grins. “The detective and the thief. I’ll let you read, then.”

Steve nods. “See ya.”

“See ya.” Bucky closes the door. A second later Steve hears the shower turn on, so he looks down at his book.

_He couldn’t figure it out._ The book read. _It was true that the culprit was good, but why so many small rookie errors? What were the clues for? If he didn’t know any better, he would almost say that this was a well-laid out paper trail. But why would the thief want to be found? Why leave clues behind for Jack to find?_

_Before he’s spoken out that night, before they’d met, nothing like this had ever happened. The crime scene was never left with any traces but the calling card of six talleymarks drawn on the wall. Ever since that night, though…_

_He remembers the glint of stormy eyes in the alleyway. He remembers the long dark hair and the confident smirk beneath the mask. He knows nothing about the thief but those things he saw, and yet he continues to toss them around in his mind._

_Was ‘six’ trying to call him out? Why would anyone possibly do that? With so much stolen, jail was imminent, and yet-_

Steve yawns and blinks at the pages.

_And yet-_

His eyes droop shut. 

_And yet…_

“Stevie.”

Steve’s eyes open just as Bucky’s lips connect with his forehead. He yawns. “Oh, hey Buck. Did I fall asleep?”

“Yeah.” He runs a hand through Steve’s hair. “Tired?”

“A little.” He leans into the touch of Bucky’s metal hand. “You?”

“Exhausted.”

“C’mere.” Steve lays on his back, arms out. Bucky easily slips over him, laying between Steve’s legs with his head on Steve’s shoulder. Bucky’s wet hair tickles Steve’s neck, but he smells good, and the clothes he has on are warm- fresh from the dryer, soft from frequent use.

“These are mine.” He says, tugging at the waistband of Bucky’s sweats.

“Hmph.”

“And- this is mine too!” He looks pointedly and amusingly at the T-shirt Bucky’s wearing. “Sam got that for me, you jerk.”

“Shh. Sleepy.”

“Ugh. Fine. Thief.”

“Detective.”

Steve rolls his eyes. “You shoulda’ never learned to read. You and these romance novels.”

“You like ‘em too, so shut it.”

Well, that’s fair. 

He starts to run his hand through Bucky’s hair. He really likes lazy days like these, where they’re both too tired to really care about anything. He doesn’t think he’ll fall asleep until he finds himself unable to keep his eyes opened- lulled shut by the even rhythm of Bucky’s breathing…

 

“Captain?”

Steve groans. He doesn’t open his eyes. He can tell he’s been asleep for a little while, but he’s so warm and perfectly content where he is… he doesn’t want to open his eyes.

Bucky sits up. 

“Hey kid.” He coughs once to clear the sleep from his voice. 

It’s either Peter or Wanda, then. He wasn’t listening to the voice before.

“Hello.” Ah, it’s Wanda. “Um, is Captain Rogers in right now?”

A hero never rests. “Here.” He lazily sticks his hand up. He hears Wanda move around the couch to stand before him so he forces himself to crack an eye open. He squints under the sudden light. “Oh, Wanda. Are you alright?” 

She doesn’t answer right away. She bites her lip and holds her arm, looking away from them. Uh oh.

He sits up, ignoring Bucky’s look of indignation as he’s forced back. “Is something wrong?”

And then, the worst happens. She starts crying. 

_Oh. Oh dear._ This isn’t good. Wanda, his poor, poor girl, is crying?! His first thought is that someone’s died, but then, he’d know if that happened. So his second thought is that something- no, someone- has hurt her. 

And they’re going to die.

Before he can do much of anything, Bucky has it under control. 

“Hey, hey, sweetheart,” He reaches out and cups her face, brushing away her tears carefully. “It’s alright.”

_Thank God you’re here at my side,_ Steve thinks. 

His rage catches up with him then. "Who is it?” He demands. It’s not going to be pretty when he tracks down the ones responsible. “Who made you cry? I’ll find them, I’ll-“

“N-no one.” She hiccups.

Steve suddenly remembers saying the exact same thing to Bucky. Before now, he’d always thought Bucky was ridiculous to go into a rage and try to find whoever it was that had hurt Steve for revenge. Steve had been fully capable of handling himself. Now, he understands. 

Bucky’s way ahead of him. “Don’t think you can save them now. Steve’ll take care of them, whoever they are, kid.”

She sniffs a little. In a small voice, she finally says, “I’m… just lonely.”

For a second, they don’t say anything. What can you say to that? 

Steve remembers the pain of having one person in the entire world who made him happy- who made it so that he didn’t have to be alone. He remembers how horribly lonely he was when Bucky went to war. He remembers how happy he was when he met Peggy, and finally his world wasn’t so lonesome anymore. Then they’re both been gone, and he’d been alone in a century he knew nothing about, with no one at all. Wanda is the same way; she’d had one person in the world she didn’t ‘belong’ to. And now he was gone as well.

Steve knows her pain too well, and a glance at Bucky’s face says that he does, too.

Bucky reaches out and carefully pulls Wanda towards him. For a second he holds her to his body, chin on the top of her head while she cries into his chest. He glances over at Steve, smiling sadly. 

Steve opens his arms in asking. 

Bucky shuffles back on to the couch, tugging Wanda gently along with him until she’s snuggled in-between the two of them. They each put an arm around her while she buries her head in Bucky’s shoulder, her hand clutching hard at Steve’s arm. He pushes her hair out of her face and tries to soothingly stroke her head, nodding at Bucky when he notices the other man hesitating to move. 

Bucky begins brushing the tears off her face. “E în regulă, domniţă,” he says. “E în regulă, domniţă.”

She cries harder. 

“You can always come see us if you’re lonely.” Steve says.

“If you don’t mind the uncomfortable half-metal hugs some of us might give.” Bucky chuckles.

She laughs a little, the sound muffled by Bucky’s shirt. “I don’t mind at all,” she sniffles.

They continue like that, for a while. It’s nice, to just be all lumped together. When you’re being held by people who care about you, it feels like everything is going to be okay somehow. He hops that’s how Wanda feels with him and Bucky- he’s always watched out for her as best as he can. She’s just a kid, and she needs someone to. Having Bucky look out for her, too, is the best sort of thing he can imagine up for any lost girl.

“E în regulă, domniţă. “E în regulă.”

He really loves Buck.

 

-

 

Bucky wakes up sometime around four in the morning. He doesn’t know what wakes him, but he’s covered in sweat and breathing hard, so he figures it’s better he doesn’t know. 

“Fuck.” He sits up and swings his legs over the side of the bed. His racing heart makes his fingers itch for the gun in the bedside drawer. _I don’t need it,_ he repeats to himself. _I don’t need it._ He thought he was done with this. 

He’s got to remember what Steve tells him. Just because it’s better, doesn’t mean it’s done. He and Steve, they’re never gonna go back to how they used to be- they’re both stuck with the serum, and they’re both stuck with the mental trauma. But it’s okay for things to be like this. It’s just the way he has to live now. 

He focuses on his breathing. In, out, in, out. Everything’s okay. Steve is here with him, and he’s home. There’s nothing to be afraid of. There’s nothing to cause him any sort of panic or pain. Breathe. Just breathe. 

Steve stirs. “Buck?” His voice is gravely with sleep. “You okay, pal?”

“Yeah.” He clears his throat. “Just breathing.”

Steve sits up in bed behind him. “You mind?” He asks, reaching out. 

“I’m good. Go ahead.” 

Steve wraps his arms loosely around Bucky from behind, kissing his neck. “It’s okay.” He says. “Bad dream?”

“I don’t remember.” He takes one of Steve’s hands and laces their fingers together. 

“M’ sorry, Buck.”

“It’s fine.” He leans his head against Steve’s. “My own fault for being a shitty person.”

Steve pauses. He kisses Bucky’s neck again before saying. “Turn around.”

Bucky does as he’s told, scooting back into bed to face Steve. Steve takes his face between warm palms. “You,” Steve says, “Are a wonderful person.” He leans forward and seals their mouths together. It’s a long, sweet kiss- just enough pressure to be loving without being hurried. 

“M’ not.” Bucky mutters. 

“A beautiful person,” He kisses him. “A great person.” Two kisses. “You, Buck,” A long, long kiss- wet and slow on the draw-back, “are my favorite person.”

Bucky feels himself blushing and looks at his lap. He doesn’t believe it for a second.

“Can I…” Steve pushes Bucky’s hair out of his face, tipping Bucky’s jaw up so that he has to look at Steve. “Can I show you how much you mean to me?”

“I don’t understand.”

“Let me make love to you.” Steve pinks when he says it, but he’s serious. 

“Well,” Bucky does’t know why he’s blushing- they’ve done this before, and usually, he doesn’t flush for sweet talk. “I’d be an idiot to turn down any sort of sex from Steve Rogers.”

Steve smiles a little. “Lay down.”

Bucky does. He likes it when Steve takes care of him- makes it easy by telling him what to do and asking him what he wants and likes. He can already feel himself getting aroused. Steve wears a shirt and shorts to bed, but Bucky only wears his underwear, so he’s free to be stripped at any moment.

Steve moves down to the end of the bed, sitting between Bucky’s feet. He lifts one foot and kisses the ankle. 

“What’re you doing?” Bucky huffs. 

“Unless you want me to stop, shut up and let me do this.” Steve says, lightly. He smiles and kisses Bucky’s ankle again. 

“My feet are fucking gross, Steve.”

“They’re your feet. So they’re not gross to me.”

He looks away.

“I think you are perfect,” He kisses steadily upward. “I think you are sweet.” Between each declaration he presses another kiss to Bucky’s leg. “I think you’re brilliant. I think your eyes are the prettiest I’ve ever seen. I love your hair. I love your lips. I love your skin.” He reaches the hem of Bucky’s underwear and then leans up. He kisses just below Bucky’s bellybutton, grinning at the shiver that runs through Bucky’s body. “I love everything about you.”

“D-dope.” Bucky breathes. 

Steve pulls at the ends of Bucky’s underwear. Bucky lifts his hips to help, watching as Steve pulls them off and throws them off the side of the bed. He pulls the un-kissed leg up onto his shoulder and kisses the inside of Bucky’s thigh. 

“You’re everything good in my world.” Steve whispers. 

Bucky swallows hard. 

“Do you know how much I love you?” Steve reaches down and grips Bucky’s cock in his hand, considerably soft and slow as he begins to move. Bucky’s already leaking. “Do you know, Buck? Hearing your laugh makes my day. Seeing your smiles makes me smile. I love you. I love you, and your body, and your mind, and everything you are. Even the parts you hate about yourself, I love.”

“Sh-shut up.” Bucky throws an arm over his eyes. He can’t watch Steve’s genuine eyes. It’s too much truth an adoration, and he doesn't feel like he deserves any of it.

“I won’t.” Steve says firmly. “I’ll tell you how much I love you every day, Bucky. I’ll praise every inch of your body until you know it’s true. Until you know that I love you more than anything else. Until maybe, maybe you feel like you’re worth something.”

Bucky breathes deep. 

Steve pauses in his speech. The covers shift as Steve moves- warm breath billowing out over Bucky’s dick. “Because you’re worth more than the world to me.” 

Bucky gasps and arches his back as he’s suddenly encased in wet heat. “Steve-“ His hand snatches a handful of blond hair as he groans. “Stevie.”

Steve’s tongue swirls around him, rubbing at the underside of his shaft. He gently bobs his head, sucking languidly, like they’ve got the rest of their lives to spend on one damn blowjob. 

“Shit.” He screws his eyes closed. 

Steve pulls off just as Bucky starts to tremble. “You’re amazing.” He leans forward, kissing up Bucky’s stomach as his hand resumes it’s earlier course- pumping slowly up and down Buck’s cock. “You’re so good to me, Buck. You’re the best thing that’s ever happened to me.”

He wants to argue. Wants to say he’s done things to Steve that Steve doesn’t deserve. He’s cut off by a warm mouth on his own. 

“You’re the stars to me, Buck. You’re my universe.”

Bucky sighs. His lips part as he melts back into the mattress, groaning when Steve’s tongue presses into his mouth. They kiss without any sort of purpose or hurry, sighing and shifting against each other as Steve continues to slowly pump Bucky. It’s enough to drive him mad.

“You’re wearing a lot of clothes.” Bucky jokes as Steve draws back.

Steve smiles a little. He takes his hands off Bucky and strips hurriedly, tossing his shirt before standing up on the bed to kick off his shorts. He comes back down quickly, switching hands on Bucky in order to lean over to the side drawer. 

“Yeah?” Bucky asks, eloquently. 

Steve just laughs a little. He pulls out the (almost empty) bottle of lube and pops the cap. “You’re still okay with this?” Steve asks. He reaches behind him to prep himself, and if that doesn’t make Bucky’s cock jump nothing will. “Bucky?”

“Okay with it?” He laughs, breathlessly. “Pal, I’m more than okay.”

“Good.” They’d had a round just earlier that night, even if it was quick and sloppy- they’d both been tired and ready to pass out- so Steve doesn’t dally long. He lifts himself up over Bucky, legs on either side of his hips, and carefully lowers himself down.

“Oh-“ Bucky hisses as his hips slam up of their own accord. He bottoms out and mutters, “Shit.” He reaches up. “Steve- Stevie, you okay, Steve-“

“Fine.” Steve breathes. He looks blissed out, cock hard and flushed against his stomach. 

“Fuck, Steve-“

“I’m in love with you.”

Bucky pauses. He knows. He- they’ve both spilled their feelings and they remind each other frequently enough. But the way Steve stares down at him with watery eyes- red staining the skin high up on his cheekbones- completely open and serious… it makes his heart thud harder in his chest. 

“I’m stupid, stupid in love with you, Buck.” He raises himself up and down, slowly, easily, one hand braced on Bucky’s stomach while the other one clutches a fist full of blond hair. His eyes are tearing up already. “I really am.”

“Shit- Stevie-“ He doesn’t even realize he’s about to cum until he is. It rolls through him slowly, carefully- a buzzing heat settling throughout his entire body as he gasps and arches up. He spasms, but it feels like he’s moving through honey- slow and golden and warm. For a second his vision doesn’t register with his brain. When he blinks back to reality Steve is riding him through his orgasm, eyes screwed tight while a few tears of pleasure slip down his face. 

“C’mere.” Bucky sits up and grabs Steve’s neck, pulling him into a mess kiss. “What’d I ever do to deserve you, huh?”

“You were you.” Steve breathes. “That’s enough.”

Bucky breathes against his neck. They’ve stopped, but Steve still hasn’t come. “Lemme-“ he reaches out for Steve’s dick, but Steve’s hand on his own stops him. 

“Can you go again?” He asks.

Bucky blinks. He thought Steve would be wanting to go back to bed. They have an early morning mission in… two hours. The least they can do is get a bit of rest. And yet… “Can I go again?” He chuckles. “I can go all night.”

“Good.” Steve rolls his hips once and Bucky gasps. “Because I want you to fuck me so hard you can’t remember what it’s like to feel badly.” 

Bucky’s eyes go wide.

“I want you to fuck me until you come hard enough to forget about any nightmare you’ve ever had.” Steve’s eyes are sin as his hand cards through Bucky’s hair. 

“That a request?” Bucky barely manages. 

“That’s an order.”

“Well, Captain,” Bucky can feel himself growing hard again. Sometimes, the serum really is worth it. “I’ll get on that in exchange for one thing.”

“Hm?”

“Once I’m done here, you do the same to me. Hard and crazy until I can’t remember my name, let alone what it feels like to hate myself, huh?”

Steve smiles, teeth bright white in the dim. “It’s a deal.”

“Good.” Bucky carefully shoves Steve onto his back, laughing a little when he slips out of him. “And you tell me if I hurt you, got it?” He leans down and nips Steve’s neck as the other man nods. “Hard and fast?”

“Hard and fast.”

“Alright then.” 

Bucky lines himself up with Steve and pushes in with one fluid moment, groaning as he bows his head into Steve’s neck. He snaps his hips hard, stomach flooding with liquid heat when Steve throws his head back and groans. 

When he pulls back and sees a hickie on Steve’s neck Bucky makes it his mission to cover him with them. He speeds up at Steve’s continued moaning- revealing in the sharp gasps that fly from Steve’s mouth whenever he leans down to leave another mark on his throat.

“Buck- Buck- god-“

“Don’t go gettin’ the two of us mixed up, Stevie.” Bucky chuckles. He bites down hard on Steve’s breast. 

Steve cries out sharply in pleasure, arching into Bucky’s touch. “Fuck-“ He bites down hard on his lip and digs his nails into Bucky’s back, dragging them in his attempt to anchor himself. 

The sting of pain makes Bucky groan- it’s good, it’s so fucking good he might just black out or lose his mind or melt into the mattress, he doesn’t know. He starts sucking a path of black bruises up to Steve’s shoulder. He bites down again and snaps his hips forward harder. 

“Ah!” Steve fists one hand in Bucky’s hair. His nails drag down Buck’s side as he frantically wraps his legs around Bucky’s waste. He’s covered in sweat and trembling, eyes glassy again as he stares a Bucky with blown pupils. 

Bucky kisses the area beneath Steve’s ear. “Look at you,” He whispers. “Fucked out of you mind.”

“I’m always out of my mind for you, Buck.” He pants. 

_I might have just fallen a little more in love with you,_ Bucky thinks. He closes his eyes and tries to breathe through the burn of his muscles. _If that’s even possible at this point._

He can feel himself getting close- the pleasure builds up in his gut faster and fast. “Stevie,” he says, but he doesn’t need to.

“Me too.” Steve reaches down to jerk himself off, but Bucky beats him to it. He moves his hand quickly, frantically, as his hips stutter and loose their rhythm. “Bucky-“

Bucky groans and slams himself into Steve one last time before he spills. He gasps for air, arms shaking as he continues to hold himself up. He feels Steve come on his stomach and flops down on top of him, eyes closed as he takes in another long breath. 

“Holy fuck.” He wheezes. 

Steve kisses his cheek. “Mmm, thank you.” He runs his hands through Bucky’s hair. 

Bucky pulls out and flops over on his side, grabbing a corner of the sheet to wipe himself off with. “You’re fucking incredible. Jesus christ.”

“I just laid there while you did all the work.” Steve laughs. “You still wanna ‘nother go?”

“Fuck yeah, Rogers- like you said. I did all the fucking work. Your turn now.”

“You sure? You look tired.”

“Just give me. Give me like five minutes.”

“Mmm.” Steve leans over and starts kissing Bucky’s neck. He sucks little marks onto the skin and hums in contentment. 

Bucky looks over at Steve to say something but stop, laughing. “Shit.”

“Huh?”

“You look- you look pretty bad,” Bucky laughs. Steve’s covered in purple marks. There’s the distinct bruised outline of teeth on his right breast. _That’s got to be tender._ “Sorry pal.”

“It’s what I wanted.”

“Hm. Well you sure fucking got it.”

“You want to look like me when we’re done, too?” He attaches his mouth to Bucky’s collarbone, sucking hard. 

Bucky can already feel the creep of arousal lacing his blood again. Jesus. “Worse.”

“Mmm. Good. I’ve got plans.”

“Yeah?”

“Yeah. Has it been five minutes yet?”

“For fuck’s sake, Stevie, has it even been _five seconds_ yet?”

Steve starts to run his hand up and down the inside of Bucky’s thigh. “Feels like five minutes.”

“Feels like I just fucked you for five hours. Hold your horses.”

“You sure?” Steve’s hand runs up the underside of Bucky’s length. 

“F-fuck.” He arches into the touch, biting his lip. “Too sensitive!” He gasps. 

Steve takes his hand away. “You really sure you want to go again?”

“I said hold you damn horses, Steve, for fuck’s sake. Yes I wanna go again. Remember- you’re gonna fuck me so hard I can’t remember anything shitty in the whole world. We had a deal.”

Steve grins against his throat. “Good.” 

Bucky looks over and- “Are you already hard? Jesus fuck.”

“My serum’s better than yours.”

“I’ll say. Fucking hell.”

Steve swings a leg up over him. There’s cum slipping down the inside of his leg, so Bucky takes the covers and reaches out to wipe it off. Steve smiles at him, gratefully, and then licks his lips. He leans down and pulls a nipple into his mouth, sucking hard. 

“Sh-shit.” Bucky’s hips raise up off the bed on their own accord. “Steve-“ He whines. He grabs Steve’s hair in his hand and tries to breathe. 

Steve begins to bite and suck at his torso. He starts at the collarbones, kissing and pulling at the skin as he makes dark, big bruises bloom. He moves like a frenzied man, intensely aroused as he tries to coax Bucky into the same state. It won’t take much. Bucky can already feel himself beginning to grow hard, erection trapped between his stomach and Steve’s. 

“Steve…” He reaches up, holding Steve to him as he closes his eyes. The sharp flickers of pleasure zipping through his system come and go as Steve moves. When Steve takes Bucky’s hip into hand and bites down gently Bucky yells.

Steve draws back. “You oka-“

“Don’t stop.”

Steve doesn’t have to be told twice. He leans back down and begins to suck a hickie the size of a golfball into the skin. Bucky starts to rub himself against Steve, slowly, still mostly over-stimulated to touch too directly.

Steve sits up and starts looking around the covers. Bucky groans, rolling his eyes.

“You looking for this?” He reaches over to the other side of the bed and holds up the bottle of lube. “Dope.”

“Yeah.” Steve takes it in hand and uncaps it. “How about you just lay there and I’ll-“

“Fine, it’s been five minutes.” He groans. At Steve’s grin, he says, “But _don’t_ expect nothing fancy.”

“Nothing at all.” Steve swears off. He grins. “Wanna get on your hands and knees for me?”

He pretends to consider it. _Hell fucking yeah I wanna get on my hands and knees for you._ He’s cooler than that. “I mean, if you insist…” He’s a little too quick to push himself up and get in position. 

Steve laughs, but doesn’t comment other than that. Bucky hears the pop of a cap behind him and sighs in contentment, leaning down to rest the side of his face on the pillow. There are little points all over his front that throb in time with the scratches on his back, but the feeling excites him more than anything.

Steve’s fingers prep him slowly. He startles at the cold feeling of lube at first, but Steve is quick to warm it. He tries to stay still, letting Steve do as he will, but it’s not soon before his breathing is erratic again. 

“Steve-“

“I know.” He crooks his fingers. Bucky’s dick jumps against his stomach. 

“Hurry the fuck up, you bastard.” Bucky whines. “I can take it.”

“I know you can.” Steve hums. “But I want it to feel nice.”

Steve continues to pump two fingers, easily, stopping to add a bit more lube every now and then. When Bucky’s about ready to start sobbing from the slow and steady torture Steve finally pulls out, sitting up on his knees.

“Finally.” Bucky sighs.

“You’re the one who said he needed a break, jerk.”

“That was like fifteen minutes a-“ He gasps as Steve presses in. “-oh, fuck- fuck-“

Steve doesn’t pause for even a moment after he pushes forward. He snaps his hips hard. 

“Fuck!” Bucky grips the sheets tight his his hands, seeing stars. “Right there, Steve-“

Steve easily keeps up his rhythm. His hold on Bucky’s hips is bruising as he slams into Bucky over and over, panting hard as he drapes himself over Bucky’s back. He pulls Bucky back to meet him, thrust for thrust.

“Bite me,” Buck groans, and while it would usually be a joke he’s serious when they’re in bed.

Steve leans forward and sinks his teeth into the tender flesh at the side of Bucky’s neck. Bucky cries out, hips dipping down to rut against the mattress for a second before Steve pulls him back roughly against him. 

“Steve, Steve, Steve, oh-“ Steve bites into the other side of his neck and Bucky nearly sobs in pleasure. “Oh fuck, please, Steve-“

Steve pulls him up, one hand on his stomach while the clutches even harder at his hip. Bucky lets his head fall back onto Steve’s shoulder, breathing hard and fast as Steve thrusts up into him, hard enough to push the bed into the wall repeatedly. He reaches back and grabs Steve’s head, other hand holding hard on the one Steve has at his hip.

“Steve.” He whines. He’s shaking so hard from the strain of keeping himself up he’s certain he’ll collapse at any moment. He falls forward, bracing his hands against the headboard, but his arms are shaking, too. “Steve, I can’t-“

Steve pulls out for a second, and the loss is enough to make Bucky choke.

“What-“

Steve quickly turns him onto his back. Once Bucky’s laid down, Steve pulls both of Bucky’s legs over his shoulders, leaving them there as he shoves back in. The headboard continues to steadily thump against the wall.

“Fuck.” Bucky’s eyes roll back in his head. He can feel beads of sweat slipping down his thighs from the backs of his knees. He almost goes blank for a second, it’s so good, but he’s abruptly brought back to reality by Steve sinking his teeth into Bucky’s pec. “Oh!” He’s trembling. “Steve, I’m close, I’m-“

Steve shoves into him harder than before. He leans down and kisses Bucky hard, bitting at his lip. He reaches between them and brings Bucky off with a few quick pumps of his fist before he lets out a loud groan and sags against Bucky.

Steve’s hips twitch a few times through his orgasm, but he’s otherwise still as he lays onto of Bucky, trying to catch his breath. Bucky can feel his own cum glueing their stomachs together and groans. Every part of him is sore, but god, does he feel good. 

“Holy shit.” He croaks. His throat is soar. 

“Yeah.” Steve manages. He flops over onto his side of the bed. “Too tired to clean up.”

“We will in the morning.” Bucky groans. He looks down at himself and groans. “Jesus Christ, Steve, I said matching- not fucking twenty times worse.” 

Steve can’t even shrug. 

“S’ hot.” Bucky laughs. “Anyway. G’night.”

“Night.” Steve manages. He’s already nodding off. 

They close their eyes for eighteen blissful minutes. 

And then their alarm begins to beep.

They open their eyes, resigned to their fate, and stare at the ceiling. 

“No.” Bucky says.

“We’ve got an hour to eat breakfast and get ready before the mission.” Steve groans. “And no sleep.”

“Mission?!” Bucky yells at the ceiling. “I can’t fucking _walk_ right now, and we’re supposed to be on mission?!”

Steve sits up. “I’l go start brewing the coffee.” He says. He moves stiffly to grab his robe as he pushes his feet into his slippers. He pulls it on and ties it while glaring at the floor.

“Sorry.” Bucky grumbles.

“Don’t be.” Steve sighs. “This would have been perfect if we could have slept in.”

“I could sleep for a year after that.” Bucky complains. 

“More like seventy.” Steve adds. “Be right back.” He heads for the door.

“I’ll come get some in a minute. Just… a minute.”

“Don’t go back to sleep.” Steve orders, hand on the doorknob.

“I… won’t…” He closes his eyes.

“Bucky, I’m serious. If I come back in here and you’re asleep-“

“I won’t go to sleep. I’ll be out there in a minute.” Bucky says.

“I’m believing you, Bucky Barnes- don’t you make me wrong.”

“I won’t, I won’t. Hurry up and go.”

Steve rolls his eyes, but it’s fond. He turns the knob but stops. “Hey.”

“Hm?”

“You look damn good.”

Bucky grins and laughs a little. “Damn right I do. Go make us some coffee, Rogers.”

“That’s _Captain_ Rogers to you, Barnes.”

He gives a sloppy salute. “Sir, yes sir.” He jokes.

Once Steve is gone, he contemplates going back to sleep. He’s pulled it many, many times. But Steve really isn’t a morning person, and that goes doubly when he’s had no sleep, so it’s best not to give him extra grief. 

It’s cold when he swings his legs over the bed, so he slumps over to the dresser and pulls on a pair of pajama pants and a pair of socks. Even if they’re going to shower in a minute, he’d rather not eat breakfast while freezing his ass off. He grunts at the gross dried mess on his stomach and heads to the bathroom connected to their room. He scrubs it off with a wet washcloth, looking himself over in the mirror.

He looks throughly fucked out. He likes it, and he can see that the bruises are already healing and- holy shit are those Steve’s _handprints_ on his hips? He can’t get up again this soon after so much, but if he could…

_Coffee_. He reminds himself. He won’t be in any sort of shape for thinking if he doesn’t have something to wake himself up. 

He trudges back to the bedroom and to the door, walking out into the main room and kitchen. The team’s already gathered in the kitchen, but he ignores them, intent on heading towards where Steve surely has coffee for him.

“Aha!” Stark calls, and this better not be fucking stupid because he’s not in the mood right now. “Frosty! Did you know Cap has a girlfr-“ He stops talking.

Bucky doesn’t know what gives him pause, but he doesn’t really care; whatever he was about to say had sounded stupid and it’s better if Bucky doesn’t have to hear it. Lest the metal hand do his talking.

He walks past them all to Steve, wrapping his arms around the other man as he gently sets his chin down on Steve’s shoulder. Steve, bless him, lifts a cup up to his lips. He takes a long drink of the coffee, hoping that it will do something about his lack of sleep.

After he’s had his drink, he feels significantly refreshed. “Mornin’.” He yawns, kissing Steve’s neck.

“Morning.” Steve answers. He takes back his mug to finish it off. 

“M’ gonna shower.” Bucky decides. He’s filthy and if they have guests, he really shouldn’t be walking around like this. “You gonna make breakfast?” Steve’s appetite is always worse than his, so in mornings where he wants nothing more than to go back to sleep, he can count on Steve still rusting up a decent breakfast. 

“The team’s here,” Steve says. “I’m sure someone will get hungry.” Hint, hint.

Bucky opens his mouth to say that the team slacks on fucking everything, and he doesn’t know how he feels about leaving the fate of their breakfast in their hands, but then he remembers the mood that Steve’s in. He’s still trying to come to terms with the morning. 

“I need a shower, too, you know.” Steve goes on. He sets his mug down and slips out of Bucky’s arms, heading back towards their room. 

Bucky pouts. “You always hog the whole fucking shower, though.” Still, he’s not gonna wait. He follows after Steve and to their room. The door clicks shut behind them and Bucky begins to strip.

“I don’t think they knew about us.” Steve says, suddenly.

“Huh?” Bucky looks up sharply. “How could they _not_ have known?”

“I… I guess we never explicitly told them.” Steve shoulders off his robe and heads towards the bathroom, turning the showered on. “Tony started talking about me having a girlfriend and a one-night stand.”

“Yeah, but Tony’s a fucking idiot.” Bucky reasons. “Never know if he’s joking or not.”

Steve laughs a little. “I guess that’s right. Still, they were pretty quiet.”

“They were.”

“And they stared. A lot.”

He hadn’t noticed. “They probably thought you were super pure and innocent.” Bucky chuckles. “Seeing all those little bruises must have thrown them for a loop.”

“Oh dear.” 

“What?”

Steve’s pink. “Wanda and Peter saw.”

“Well…” Bucky shrugs. “S’not like they didn’t know what we get up to. You and I ain’t exactly subtle, you know.”

“That’s… fair.” Steve steps into the shower, leaving the door open for Bucky.

Bucky slips in beside him. The hot water feels good on his sore muscles, but it burns the scratches in his back. “Shit.” He turns around. “Look what you did.”

“Sorry.” Steve laughs, sheepishly. “It wasn’t on purpose.” 

“It’ll heal up in a couple of hours, so it doesn’t matter much, you know.” He grins and kisses Steve’s cheek as he moves around him for the soap. “Kinda hot, anyway.”

Steve just laughs. 

They hear some sort of commotion out in the kitchen and pause. 

“Should I…” Bucky points at the door. 

“No.” Steve sighs. “I’m too tired to deal with-“ He hisses and jumps back as the water suddenly goes freezing cold. They can hear a toilet flushing outside and meet eyes. “Tony.” Steve says.

“Clint.” Bucky says. He glares at the door. “YOU’RE DEAD!” He shouts, scrubbing the bubbles out of his hair. He’s certain they can hear him. He opens the shower door to grab a towel. 

“Wanda’s out there.” Steve reminds him.

“Shit.” He steps back in. “Fine, I shower, I dress, I eat. And _then_ they’re dead.”

“Sounds like a plan.” Steve chuckles. He passes Bucky’s conditioner over to him.

“That’s me.” He drawls. “The star-spangled man with a plan.”

“Pretty sure that’s me, Buck.”

“Oh right.” He grins. “Guess you really did screw my brains out, huh?”

Steve just rolls his eyes.

Bucky’s never gonna get tired of this. 

“Hey, Stevie?”

“Hm?”

“I love ya.”

Steve tries to bite back a grin, but fails. “Yeah,” he says, softly. “I love you too.”

-

 

Fin

 

**Author's Note:**

> Wasn't sure about Wanda's chapter, but I really, really love her character and feel like she needs some major hug time after everything she's been through, so... I wrote it. Anyway. Chapter two is just everything that happens in this fic from Steve and Bucky's perspective... so I'll probably up the rating once it's out. Thanks for reading!


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